Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

AN:

Well, I finally updated. Phew, it took me ages and I'm demolished *winks* But here's the chapter, as promised, and it's a long one. And thanks for your 'understanding' reviews!

I don't know when I'll be updating next, since I'm very busy at present and I still haven't finished rereading the seventh HP book. But I'll try not to make it a very long wait.

Now, I'm answering to a few reviews. I will reread all your reviews for the next update and I'll answer them in that chapter if there were any questions. And by then I will have also replied to the PMs sent to me, because I still haven't gotten around that yet *grins impishly*

Well, a reviewer asked about Orion's height. Now that he's about to turn 17, I imagine Orion to be about 5ft7 (1.74 meters), not that tall for a man but taller than many of his female acquaintances, with Draco being a few inches taller than him, and with Lezander and Voldemort being the tallest, around 6ftsomething (1.82 m).

Ah, and to Beast of the Sea, thanks for that wonderful in depth analysis! *grins widely* I enjoyed it a lot. All I can say is that Arian wasn't raped, thank god for that. I didn't realize that rape had become a theme in my fic! *shudders with horror* Honestly, I only used it as an explanation when it fit into place with the plot and with the stuff not explained in canon, at least in my opinion. *winks*

I also understand that there has been a lot of scenes with long dialogues which people find boring and thus skip. That's fine, I completely understand, the reader rules in that regard. *grins* But anyway, everything said comes to play in the story, and is important in some small measure to the whole plot. And I also use it to refresh the reader's memory about some stuff that happened in previous chapters. Though, perhaps I do waste too much time going in too deep with explanations and hints -with the use of dialogues- instead of jumping into the action. I'll try to change that, so that it isn't too tedious, but I'm afraid that there will still be some chapters with a lot of talk, to give some important explanations and for the discussion of war plans. But I do intend to have a lot of action in the near future, for when the battles and confrontations are described.

WARNING: slash scene content, not that explicit – at least in my opinion

NOTE: if someone speaks Romanian, I would appreciate it if you could tell me how to correctly write 'dragostea mea' and 'inima mea', when applied to a male. Because a reviewer, time ago, corrected me, but I can no longer find it. Thanks!


Chapter 28

When his feet landed on marble floors, Orion's eyebrows shot upwards as he glanced at his surroundings. Voldemort had apparated them into a bedroom – what on earth was in the wizard's mind? It was when he glanced through the window panes and caught sight of the white peacocks proudly strutting around the vast and beautiful gardens, that he realized where he was - Malfoy Manor.

And given the grandness of the bedroom he was in, it was the master suite, formerly Lucius', though it certainly wasn't anymore. He knew that Lucius liked his comfortable lavishness and plush ornateness, and the wizard preferred his décor to be done in pristine whites and tasteful golds. The master bedroom was now draped and infused with blacks and dark greens, with some silver linings here and there. The furniture was austere, practical, and spartan – Voldemort had definitely changed things to suit his tastes.

But what momentarily caught his attention the most was a small round table at one corner, covered with a stack of books which Voldemort had undoubtedly been perusing during his nights. It was one of the titles which made his eyes grow large, and Orion stifled an alarmed and troubled gasp, just in time.

He knew the book well, 'Mythical magical artifacts'; one of the many he had read at Durmstrang's library, ages ago when researching the Hallows, and precisely the one which had given him some vague but useful information about the Elder Wand.

In the tome, the wand was referred to as the Deathstick, obviously with no mention of the Peverell brothers, the Hallows, or the Tale of the Three Brothers, since only selected few knew that all of it was linked together. Nevertheless, he remembered clearly that the book did speculate accurately about how the mastery of the Deathstick worked. Namely, how it passed from master to master by means of violence.

Orion felt a twist of anxious misgivings churning in his stomach, since if Voldemort had discovered that much, it meant that many were in danger. Given what had happened at Hogwart's Astronomy Tower, and since Voldemort believed that Dumbledore had been the true master of the Elder Wand, he knew what Voldemort's conclusions must have been after reading the book. After all, the Death Eaters involved had given Voldemort a detailed report about what had happened that night at Hogwarts; how Draco had disarmed Dumbledore and later how Snape had shot a Killing Curse at the old man.

Knowing Voldemort, the man wouldn't take any chances. At some point he would kill both Draco and Snape to be certain to become the new master of the Elder Wand. Furthermore, since it was evident that the dark wizard was still resolved in obtaining the Wand, it also meant that the man was expecting or planning a serious duel between the two of them, at some point.

Why else would Voldemort want an invincible wand, if not to be ready to kill him if necessary? Both of them knew that they couldn't duel each other with their Phoenix wands, and both of them also knew that his Life and Death wand was inordinately powerful.

Before Orion could dwell upon the ominous matter further, Voldemort vanished the books with a flick of his wand, and Orion found himself being dropped on one of the armchairs surrounding the small table.

"You have much to explain," hissed Voldemort, swiftly turning around to stare at Orion with narrowed eyes, towering before him. His crimson eyes narrowed further into slits, as his gaze travelled over Orion's body, and he added in a low, enraged tone, "You have a visible magical aura, I can feel your power. Why is that, boy? You've never been powerful enough for your magical core to manifest itself outwardly with such an aura-"

"I have," interrupted Orion, squirming in his seat as he attempted to get more comfortable.

Though it was pointless, his limbs felt heavy and incessantly ached, his hands trembled against his will, and he could feel beads of feverish perspiration covering his skin. Furthermore, as he glanced down at himself, he saw how he was almost entirely wrapped by swirling tendrils of blackness. His magical aura seemed to be animatedly vibrating all around him, like a thick, pulsing mantle – and it wouldn't be easy to explain without risking saying too much. He would indeed need to measure his words carefully.

Orion slowly rubbed his forehead, letting out an exhausted sigh, before he gazed up at Voldemort, and continued quietly as he waved a hand at himself, "This is the result of intensive training. It's been several months now during which I've grown to be quite powerful. I already had this magical aura. I simply covered it by drinking a potion-"

"What potion?" demanded Voldemort, taking a step forward to loom over Orion, his posture intimidating and threatening, his face exuding rising anger. "Training with whom?"

Orion speared him with his gaze, and said simply, "Grindelwald."

A flash of fury spread over Voldemort's features, while stabbing pain flared in Orion's forehead. Orion stared at the dark wizard wearily, feeling the rage coming off the man's tense body and stony, dark expression. It didn't escape his notice how Voldemort was clutching his wand, now aimed forward, the knuckles white, while the man took another menacing step forward.

Even Voldemort's crimson eyes seemed to have a murdering glint in them, as the wizard hissed in a deadly tone of voice, "I must have heard you incorrectly-"

"You didn't," snapped Orion, as he quickly forced himself to gather every ounce of strength he could muster, before he slowly rose to his feet.

He wasn't going to be bullied and intimated by him, no matter how ill he felt. Furthermore, he had known from the start that matters between them wouldn't end well, given all the things he had to tell the dark wizard; lies within truths, to give him some information but not enough to unveil the truth about the Hallows or the Vindico Atrum matter.

However, he was sure that none of what he would reveal would please the man. On the contrary, he was expecting pain, and he was prepared to face it and give as much in return. He only hoped it wouldn't end as his visions apparently predicted.

With a flick of his wrist, Orion made his Phoenix Wand shoot from its holster to his hand, while he tensed his legs to steady his wobbly knees, momentarily halting the tremors that coursed through his weakening body.

"You suspected that Dietrich Emmerich had had something to do with the group of wizards who broke into Nurmengard, just before you destroyed it," continued Orion matter-of-factly, standing face-to-face with Voldemort as he readied himself, clutching his wand tighter. "You were partly right. Emmerich and I planned it together, and we succeeded, though he died for it. The corpse you saw, the one everyone believed to be Grindelwald's, was a doppelganger, which I created with a Necromantic spell."

He paused, as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, exposing the long, thin scar that crossed his chest, which had previously been glamoured. "See, this was made by a Manticore's dart. I sustained the injury during the break in to Nurmengard. I'm not lying. All this time, Grindelwald was alive, training me-"

Abruptly, armchairs crashed to the floor as Voldemort slammed him against the wall, the wizard's long, white fingers wrapping around Orion's throat in a choking hold, as the dark wizard snarled irately, "Where is he?"

Orion grunted in pain, his lower body twisted over the small table while his torso was painfully crushed against the marble wall. And no matter how much he tried to move, the wizard had him effectively pinned and almost immobile against the wall.

"Dead!" he rasped out, scratching the fingers that were choking him, attempting to break free without the need to attack Voldemort and commence what would undoubtedly become a very violent duel. "If you want me to tell you everything, release me!"

The long fingers around his throat tightened further, making Orion gasp in a shuddery breath, before Voldemort suddenly let go of him with a furious snarl. The wizard took a few steps away, while Orion slumped against the wall, slowly rubbing his bruised throat as his head swirled dizzily.

"Start talking, boy," hissed Voldemort in a chilly and menacing tone of voice, the crimson eyes piercing Orion as he leveled his wand at him. "Why did you break out Grindelwald? Where did you keep him? Why would he agree to train you? And why did you keep it a secret from me, boy? Was it all part of a plan to stage a coup against me?" His eyes narrowed to slits, his expression furious, before he scoffed snidely, "And what truly happened to him? You cannot expect me to believe that you bested and killed him. He was a Dark Lord and you're just a boy."

Orion glared at him while he kept massaging his throat, and said stiffly, "If I were merely just a boy you wouldn't have chosen me as your spouse, would you? I'm powerful and you know it, you're seeing my magical aura right now!" He pulled himself away from the wall, and leaned heavily on the small table as he continued sharply, "And I did kill him. That's what you felt yesterday, he had struck me with a painful dark curse. We were dueling, he lost, and now he's dead-"

"Don't . lie . to . me," snarled Voldemort in a low, icy hiss, gazing down at him with contempt and ire, his wand pointing straight at Orion's face. "You expect me to believe you went through the trouble of breaking him out just to kill him in the end? You want to use him for something, against me, most probably-"

"No!" snapped Orion angrily. "Listen to me. I'm trying to explain, to tell you the truth." He carded his fingers through his hair, his mind fast at work, as he continued vehemently, "I did break him out for a purpose, for two reasons really. The first, I wanted him to train me, and he did, that's why I'm so powerful at present. He trained me for months, every weekend, and I learned and developed my magic beyond my expectations – even his."

He pierced Voldemort with his eyes, seeing the mounting fury in his face, but also that the wizard was intently hearing him out. And he continued while he lowered his voice to a soft, regretful murmur, "I learned a lot from him, but he wasn't how I had expected him to be. His decades in Nurmengard had affected him. At first I didn't notice, but as time passed by he grew unhinged, talking about his formers days, still coveting power, obsessively yearning to be a Dark Lord once more. And I realized that, when I had learned everything I could from him, I would have to kill him, since he had become a threat to me - and to you! And that's what I did."

Voldemort narrowed his eyes at him, and hissed acidly, still with his wand aimed at him, "If you wanted to better yourself, to be trained, you could have asked me. If I am to believe this, then you acted against me by rescuing him from prison-"

"Yes, exactly!" interrupted Orion vehemently, pulling over his face an expression of sheepish contrition, hoping that the half-truth he had carefully planned to spout would be believed. "That's why I didn't tell you anything about it, because I knew you wouldn't allow me to do it. Because I knew you wouldn't want to have a former Dark Lord trotting around, posing a threat to your standing." He hung his head low, and added softly, "But I wanted him to be free, not just because I wanted to learn from him, but because I wanted to get to know him."

He briefly glanced up at Voldemort, to see his reaction so far, and saw that the wizard kept intently gazing at him, obviously expecting further explanations, so he continued on as planned, hoping his acting skills were up to par.

He loudly sighed, as he muttered quietly, "That's my second reason for having broken him out, and also my reason for always wanting to return to Durmstrang. Remember how you often asked me what there was in Durmstrang that always made me refuse going anywhere else? Why Durmstrang is so important to me? It was because of him, because there I learned about him and his ties to me-"

"His ties to you?" hissed Voldemort, a deep, dark frown spreading over his face, while a calculating glint shone in his eyes.

Orion nodded adamantly. "Precisely, that's what I wanted to discover and I could only do it at Durmstrang." He sighed wearily, tiredly seating himself on top of the table, as he continued, "It started with Karkaroff. I didn't tell you before, but the night you killed him, I saw it through your eyes, as you know that can happen occasionally. At that time, I didn't understand why I had those visions. I obviously didn't know that I was your horcrux. But what he said to you marked me, because he had said something to me just before he fled."

He cocked his head to a side, and added quietly, "Remember what he said to you? That you weren't important, that he lived to help another, that that person was 'everything'. You thought he was talking about Dumbledore. You thought Karkaroff had betrayed the Dark side – he hadn't. He was referring to me, Tom."

He intently gazed at Voldemort, wanting to catch every detail of his reaction, while he saw the wizard's expression darkening, rage and suspicion undoubtedly resurging in the man's brilliant mind while it was fast at work.

And he continued softly, surreptitiously clutching his wand tighter, ready for Voldemort's violent reaction, as the lies within half-truths smoothly rolled from his tongue, "And I know that because the day Karkaroff left Durmstrang to flee from you, he asked to see me, and he told me something. He said that I was a true Grindelwald. And he gave me a portkey, without saying anything else. And with that, he left me hanging there, trying to figure it out."

He pierced the Dark Lord with his eyes, and added adamantly when the wizard remained quiet, "Don't you see what he meant? The portkey he gave me activated itself during the Battle of the Department of Mysteries. It took me straight to Grindelwald's cell, though I still don't know how it was done. Nevertheless, that's what happened to me back then. And it's what I was afraid of telling you, because by then I had already discovered my link to Grindelwald. And he confirmed it to me. From then onwards, I began planning to break him free. And I enlisted Emmerich's help when I found out he had been one of Grindelwald's Hauptkommandaten."

The air in the room seemed to turn heavy. It felt like the calm before a storm, and the more he spoke, the more the atmosphere between them became tenser and more dangerous, as if something would soon come to rip it all to pieces, as his visions foretold. Voldemort was piercingly staring at him with enraged crimson eyes, the wizard's wand directly aimed at his face, the man's body tensing as if preparing for an attack.

However, Orion trudged on, knowing it had to be done, knowing also that it was now time to face the consequences before matters took another turn for the worse.

Making himself adopt a façade of calmness he certainly didn't feel, he intently gazed at the dark wizard, and finally said quietly, "He was my grandfather, Tom. That was what Karkaroff meant and what he wanted me to discover. That's also why I broke Grindelwald out of Nurmengard and why he trained me."

Having readied himself to duel for his life, Orion almost gaped when Voldemort simply stared at him in silence. The man was insanely furious, he could clearly see it in those narrowed crimson eyes. And the twitch of the long fingers wrapped around the wizard's wand told him that Voldemort truly wanted to Crucio him – at the very least. Regardless, the wizard didn't.

Minutes seemed to tick by, neither of them saying anything, while Orion felt tense wariness and apprehension coiling inside of him. Suddenly, Voldemort's next words made it clear to him that something was not right.

"How?" hissed Voldemort demandingly, intensely spearing him with his gaze. "How is it that you're his grandson?"

Orion frowned at him, his mind speeding with countless confused thoughts. This was certainly not the reaction he had been expecting; the dark wizard visibly restraining himself to not harm him. It didn't make any sense. Voldemort wasn't one to economize Cruciatus Curses. The man tortured and asked questions later. Something was definitely going on, and he couldn't figure it out.

"He wanted an heir," said Orion slowly, still studying the wizard's expression closely, trying to garner why he hadn't been attacked yet, given the importance of what he had revealed and been keeping a secret from the man. "He had instructed his Hauptkommandaten that if he was ever imprisoned before having an offspring, that they had the duty to provide him with an opportunity to impregnate someone-"

"The first attempt to break him out," hissed Voldemort musingly, his gaze still fixed on Orion, as he slowly lowered his wand.

"Yes," said Orion shortly, nodding at him. "As you know, Emmerich led that attempt, but their purpose wasn't to break Grindelwald free, but to smuggle someone inside his cell. Emmerich carried it out. He captured a woman, imperioed her and-"

"Who?" demanded Voldemort sharply, narrowing his eyes at him.

"My muggle grandmother, Rose Evans," replied Orion with annoyance, not appreciating being constantly interrupted. "My mum was her child with Grindelwald, though no one ever found out about it-"

"You expect me to believe," snarled Voldemort, anger suffusing his expression once more, "that Grindelwald choose a muggle woman to carry his offspring? That he wanted to have a half-blood as an heir – your mudblood mother?"

"Yes, I expect you to believe it," snapped Orion, coloring his voice with irritated exasperation, obviously not wanting to give out any more information which could make Voldemort discover that the truth about the matter was all about preserving and strengthening Antioch Peverell's line, which was supposedly inexistent. "Why would I lie about this?"

He held up a hand when the wizard was about to interrupt him, and continued sharply, "And no, Grindelwald never told me the specifics. He didn't tell me why he choose Rose Evans. Actually, he didn't tell me much about the whole affair, just that he had wanted to have descendants and that I was his."

Voldemort swirled around, his back turned to Orion, apparently staring into vacant air as he pondered, whilst hissing something under his breath, sounding angry. But it was so low that Orion couldn't catch it. Suspicion, fury, and sly machinations seemed to be churning inside the dark wizard's mind, but the man still didn't make any attempts of coercing more information through pain. And Orion's own suspicions at the wizard's uncharacteristical restraint climbed further.

Abruptly, Voldemort swiftly turned around to pierce him with his eyes, and he demanded crisply, "And you have killed him?"

"Yes," said Orion slowly, openly boring his gaze into his. "I'm willing to take Veritaserum to answer that question again, if you don't believe me. I have no reason to lie about the matter." He clenched his jaw, and added stiffly, "He's dead, gone, to never appear again. Even if he was my grandfather, he was dangerous to me, and our plans, and I had already obtained all the training I wanted from him. I'm not above killing my own when they pose a threat – I did kill Nymphadora Tonks as well, if you remember."

Voldemort narrowed his eyes at him, apparently having some trouble believing the truth of his words. But in the next second the wizard's lips curved into a slight, satisfied smirk, before his face darkened again, and he hissed lowly, "Who knows that Grindelwald was your grandfather?"

"No one, at present. But soon, everyone will figure it out," said Orion nonchalantly, while he covertly tensed his fingers around his wand. "I paid him homage by building a monument as his tombstone, engraving 'grandfather', amongst other things, on its base."

Suddenly, his scar blazed with painful, sharps stabs, and Orion had to pull considerable effort into not flinching or recoiling when Voldemort swiftly reached him to tightly clutch his face in a punishing grip, fingers sinking aggressively into his cheeks, as the man hissed out, "And why did you do that, boy? You were indeed plotting a coup against me, weren't you? With the aid of your dear old grandfather. Is that what Igor, the pathetic old fool, wanted? How many others were involved?" The wizard's crimson eyes narrowed further as his voice rose in fury, the hissing becoming almost unintelligible, "You were trained for that purpose, boy, don't lie to me. How many wanted to replace me with you? How long have you been plotting against me?"

Orion angrily yanked his face free, and spat caustically, "Others might have wanted that, but not I. I wouldn't be telling you all this if I had been plotting against you, would I? I wouldn't have killed my own grandfather if I wanted to follow his plans for the both of us to take the leadership of the Dark! That's what he wanted, to use me to come back to power. And yes, I suppose that Karkaroff also wanted to use me to replace you as the Dark Lord, seeing that you wanted to kill him. I was certainly the most appealing option, given that I was young enough to be molded by them. But I didn't know about Grindelwald's plots, and when I found out, I killed him. So you should be satisfied!"

"If I find out you have been lying to me about this matter," hissed Voldemort in a deadly, cold tone, unceremoniously releasing Orion's chin as he took a step back to pierce him with narrowed, crimson eyes, "you'll regret it dearly."

"Point taken," bit out Orion irritably, flicking his wand to make one of the toppled armchairs spring back into place.

He slowly sunk on it, tiredly sighing as he massaged his bruised chin, whilst wishing that their conversation could soon come to an end. He was increasingly feeling worse, he could feel his heavy lids wanting to close shut over his eyes, and he could feel the waves of sick nausea and feverish tremors threaten to painfully ripple over his body once more. The potion-withdrawal symptoms seemed to come and go with some regularity, and he was positive that they would soon come back to wreck havoc in his body.

At last, he decided to probe matters and turn around the table, and he demanded crisply, ""Why did you want to know where Grindelwald was? Why were you so interested in him? Why did you attack Nurmengard?"

Voldemort merely arched an eyebrow, and replied coolly, "To kill him, of course. As you said, I couldn't have a former Dark Lord posing a threat to me."

Orion swallowed a scoff, and made himself nod in understanding, while something hardened inside of him. Of course, he hadn't expected Voldemort to tell him the truth about his quest to obtain the Elder Wand. But this blatant lie, given face-to-face, proved to show him that they both had layers upon layers of plots and lies between them. That no matter how hard he tried, it would always be that way. It seemed impossible for them to truly trust each other, to fully and openly cooperate and form a unified front. And it left a somber, bitter taste in his mouth.

"If you have not been plotting against me," hissed Voldemort, piercing him with narrowed, suspicious eyes, his face looking hard and unforgiving, "why did you state that Grindelwald was your grandfather in this monument you spoke about? And why," the man's eyes narrowed further, looking as mere crimson slits in the pale face overshadowed by the dim candlelight of the room, whilst his voice turned slow and deadly with rage, "did you congregate your so called Dark Army to show them how you had… turned against me after the night we spent with Rabastan?"

Orion momentarily paled, before he pulled himself together, shooting him a cocky smirk while he replied smoothly, "Showing them how I had tortured you, you mean." He angled his head to a side, his smirk growing while he tightly wrapped his fingers around his wand, still innocently lying by his side. "Isn't it obvious? I wanted them to see that I was powerful enough to confront you. The DA are my followers after all, and they need to feel secure with me. They needed to have proof that I was powerful enough to be their leader. You do the same thing with your Death Eaters, and you've punished me in front of them often enough. I simply took a leaf from your book, so you cannot blame me for that."

He waved his left hand dismissively, and added coolly, "And I want people to know that I'm Grindelwald's grandson for that very same reason."

Seeing Voldemort's eyes narrowing with thinly concealed fury, he continued quickly, "Not to steal your position as the Dark Lord. As I have often repeated, I'm not interested in that. I have always wanted you and I to work together, not against each other. I have no desire to be the Dark Lord." He speared the dark wizard with a serious and hard gaze. "I simply want to be taken seriously as another leader of the Dark – as your ally, since that's what I am, remember? And whatever helps to strengthen my position as a leader of the Dark, benefits you as well. When Grindelwald's statue is discovered, they'll figure out that I'm his grandson, and that will strengthen my position and it will help me secure the loyalty of my followers. Thus, we'll be stronger for when the open war in England begins."

"I see," hissed Voldemort slowly, a superior smirk tugging his lips, his expression turning sly and condescending. " So that's why you have slithered your way back to me, with your tail between your legs, finally deciding to blubber out what you have been keeping a secret from me." He clicked his tongue mockingly, spreading out a hand to trail a fingertip along Orion's visible lightning-bolt scar, causing a ripple of pain to surge in Orion's forehead, as he sneered, "Now that the war is coming, you want to be in my good graces again, don't you, my little serpent?" His smirk widened as he kept caressing Orion's scar, adding surmounting pressure and pain to it. "You want to be in my fold again, under my wing and protection."

Orion bristled and gritted his teeth against the pain, but he swallowed a nasty retort, pulling a blank and subdued expression over his face as he replied calmly, "If you want to see it that way, yes."

"Tell me," hissed Voldemort in a low, jeering whisper, as he kept trailing his finger over Orion's scar, his crimson eyes fixed on it, "is that also why you have uncovered your scar? Did you think it would make me feel protective over you? That I would think twice about punishing you for your deeds against me, for the things you kept secret from me, out of any sentiment of ownership I could have over you?"

The pain in his forehead flared, the blaze increasing, and Orion finally had enough. He violently slapped the wizard's finger away from his forehead, as he spat mordantly, "I couldn't care less about that. I uncovered my scar because I have no reason to conceal it anymore, and it serves to remind everyone that even as a baby I was powerful enough to best you – even if it was accidental." He shot him a nasty grin, and added sharply, "Remember that."

Voldemort scoffed derisively, seemingly finding the comment too ludicrous to be worthy of a retort, and he dug his fingertip into Orion's scar, imbuing into it one last stab of piercing pain before he drew his hand away.

Once more, Orion saw how the dark wizard seemed to be thinking matters over, with mounting anger flashing in the man's crimson eyes. Yet, again, even though Voldemort's long fingers twitched around his wand as if desiring to shoot out a dark curse, the wizard merely fixedly stared at him. Orion's confusion grew with each passing second that the dark wizard pulled restraint over his usual sadistic inclinations. Nevertheless, he forced himself to stay alert to any possible attack from the man.

"Where's Fenrir Greyback?" hissed Voldemort abruptly, leveling Orion with a narrowed, piercing gaze.

A harsh chuckle sprung from Orion's lips, as he shot him a nasty, smug smirk. "I'm glad you brought it up. I sent him to Lycaon, to Remus. Because surely you know that that former follower of yours is Remus' mate, don't you?"

Voldemort's eyes narrowed even further, and Orion didn't have to look twice to know that the wizard was once more restraining his violent nature with commendable effort and control.

At the wizard's silence, Orion dropped his smirk, and groused out with angered accusation, "And Greyback told me how you have been going against my back, contacting the Alphas of continental Europe, promising them a potion to transform under non-full-moon nights. You're trying to steal my allies away from me-"

"You cost me my alliance with the Dementors, boy," hissed Voldemort pointedly, his tone of voice utterly calm, though his features were becoming increasingly angered. "You kidnapped Nymphadora Tonks from my Manor, and killed her, after I had ordered you to bring her back to me, since I still had uses for her. Not to mention that you have now cost me one more follower." His eyes narrowed with fury, and he added in a low, sharp hiss, "Your deeds against me keep mounting, boy. And be assured that I will make you pay for them."

Orion clenched his jaw, and spat angrily, "I only take from you what's not rightfully yours. The allegiance with the Dementors was a dangerous risk. I have no doubt that they would have turned against you at some point. Creatures like that cannot be controlled, Tom. Nymphadora was a Black, and since I'm Head of my House, I had the right to decide what to do with her according to pureblood tradition. And Greyback certainly should have never been a Death Eater, even if you did somehow persuade -or I rather say, manipulate- him in order to mark him. He's Remus' mate and now he is where he should have always been." He grimaced, and added in a murmur, "At least I hope that what I have done is for the best."

He speared the wizard with a narrowed gaze, and continued acerbically, "Nevertheless, I have never encroached upon your territory, but you have in mine. Do you think that I'm not aware that Gustav Orloff must have been the one who told you about what I had shown to my DA? I know that he's the idiot that the Carrows appointed as your liaison in Durmstrang!" He gritted his teeth, and hissed out furiously, "Through Orloff, you're recruiting in my school, and you bloody well know that Durmstrang is my turf! As your ally, I have the right to have my own followers, from my own school. You've always had Hogwarts as your recruiting grounds, but Durmstrang is mine. Do I make myself clear?!"

Voldemort patronizingly gazed down at him, as if observing a pathetic little child throwing a temper tantrum, and he hissed impassively, "Where's Draco Malfoy?"

"What?" stuttered out Orion, startled at the sudden change of subjects. His jaw clenched with anger, and he bit out, "We were talking about-"

"Where . is . Draco . Malfoy?" snarled Voldemort harshly, abruptly towering over him. Yet, Orion noticed, without making any visible attempts to force answers by means of violent coercion or by the use of dark curses.

"As I told you the moment I left your Manor, I went out to look for him," replied Orion, their previous argument flying out of his mind, while he pulled a puzzled and worried expression over his face. "But I haven't found him, or any clue which could point me towards the right direction." He heavily sighed and rubbed his increasingly pounding temples, as he added in a murmur, "I don't know where he is, or who took him away. I just hope that he's alright."

In the bat of an eyelash, his chin was punishingly grabbed and lifted up by long fingers, and Voldemort pierced him with narrowed eyes as he hissed sharply, "No one but you would have dared to rescue that boy from the punishment which was due to him. No one would have gone against me in that fashion, but you. So, I repeat, where is he?"

"I don't know,"gritted out Orion, glowering at him. Seeing the wizard's mounting fury, he quickly changed tactics, and snorted loudly as he arched a mocking eyebrow. "If I was the one to take him, where would I have concealed him, eh? Your Death Eaters have been hunting him down without any results, so it's obvious that someone is helping Draco. But it can't be me since I'm here with you. And your minions must have already checked my properties without finding him, right? My guess is that Dumbledore is behind it. The old coot was the one to offer Draco help at the Astronomy Tower, after all. Remember? You surely saw that when you brutally legilimized Draco."

As Voldemort wrenched his hand away from Orion's chin, as if disgusted, the man's jaw clenched in visible, repressed ire. It was clear to him that Voldemort hadn't believed his excuse, but apparently the wizard had resolved to not attack him during their entire meeting. Orion felt that no matter how many reasons he was giving the wizard, the man was simply postponing to deal out punishment at some other point in time. The constant question that swirled in Orion's puzzled mind was 'why?'.

"How did you know about Dumbledore's headquarters in Paris?" hissed Voldemort sharply, the change in subjects momentarily startling Orion as he was pulled away from his calculating musings.

"Did the Death Eaters you sent there find anything?" asked Orion quickly, feeling a frisson of excited anticipation.

"No," hissed Voldemort indifferently. "They only found Barty Crouch's body."

"Oh," muttered Orion with disappointment, before he shot the wizard a narrowed glance. "I was the one to kill him, not the light wizards. When I was making my escape I saw Barty -what was left of him, that is. You tortured him to insanity through his Dark Mark."

"I did," hissed Voldemort silkily, as he arched an eyebrow. "Do you disapprove?"

"No," said Orion shortly, not even attempting to argue the matter. Some things – as changing Voldemort's mind of how to deal with followers- you just shouldn't try to do. It could give you ulcers, or in his case, make you end up being Crucioed by a sadistic Dark Lord – usually, that is, since at present the dark wizard seemed decidedly against it, for some devious reason of his own, no doubt.

Orion grimaced due to Voldemort's perplexing attitude, but he was instantly snapped from his ponderings when the wizard hissed in a supposedly musing tone, "Strange that the same isn't working on the Malfoy boy, wouldn't you say? It seems that something is unexpectedly blocking me from using my Dark Mark on him. As a matter of fact, it feels to me as if his Dark Mark doesn't exist any longer."

"Really?" breathed out Orion, having swiftly masked his expression to one of flabbergasted puzzlement, as he saw that Voldemort was fixedly piercing him with his gaze. "That is weird." He stared at him with wide eyes, as he added with befuddlement, "What do you think that Dumbledore has done to him?"

Voldemort's eyes narrowed to slits, before the wizard hissed with sharp impatience, "I will soon find out the truth about it. Now answer my initial question, boy. How did you know about the old man's new Headquarters?"

"Er, well," said Orion waveringly, before he shot him a glance and continued more firmly, lacing his voice with anger, "Grindelwald wanted to see Dumbledore, and he manipulated and forced my hand to agree to it, making me sign a magical contract of non-aggression. I'm not quite sure why Grindelwald wanted me there, since when they spoke they did it in privacy." He forced an amused smile on his face, as he continued, "Apparently the two of them had been sweet on each other when they were young. Did you know?"

Voldemort merely arched a surprised eyebrow, but his expression soon turned impatient again. And Orion proceeded to continue more quickly, as he waved a hand dismissively, "Well, the point is that they had their meeting, and I couldn't attack the old coot. So when he started disapparating, I grasped his arm and I was pulled into the apparition with him. We landed there, in his new Headquarters, but I barely made it out unscathed."

He frowned, and added in a serious and pressing tone of voice, since this information was something that Voldemort indeed needed to know and consider, "It was packed with light wizards, Tom. Most of them French, Italian and Spanish Aurors. I would say there was about forty of them in the end, since suddenly more came-"

"And you prevailed against such numbers?" interrupted Voldemort with condescending disbelief tinged with suspicion, which was accompanied by a narrowing of his eyes.

"Er, not exactly. Not by myself," murmured Orion, before he took in a deep, tired breath to finally divulge the most important issue in his opinion. He leveled him with a stern gaze, and continued firmly, "Someone briefly helped me out against their attack. I had never met him before, but for some reason or other he wanted me to escape, and he aided me." He sighed with exhaustion, rubbing his aching temples, before he pierced the wizard with his eyes, trying to convey the importance of his words. "It was Dumbledore's grandnephew. He's called Arian Hyperion Valenor, and it seems that he-"

"Dumbledore doesn't have a grandnephew," hissed Voldemort caustically, his eyes narrowing to slits as he regarded Orion with a hard expression on his face.

"He does," bit out Orion with miffed annoyance. "That's what I'm trying to tell you. The old coot's sister bore a child. Grindelwald once mentioned it to me, but I didn't think it was important until I met Arian. Arian is Dumbledore's sister's grandson, and the old coot's sole living relative if you rule out the old man's brother Aberforth." He leveled Voldemort with a hard gaze, as he added sharply, "And Arian is very powerful, Tom, more than Dumbledore himself. I could feel it."

A dark frown spread over Voldemort's features, but Orion didn't give the man a chance to voice anything as he continued to relate what he could about Arian. He mostly told him what he had found out through Sebastien Valois, claiming to know such things by having written a letter to Sebastien, since the wizard was the only Frenchmen he knew, and since he had detected a French accent in Arian's tone of voice.

But he certainly didn't mention anything related to the Vindico issue. Therefore, he didn't breathe a word about why Arian was fixated with him, nor about Arian's stay with the Flamels –since it had been detected by Aux Atrum monitoring. He didn't mention, either, his theory that Arian could absorb Dumbledore's magic, but he did point out that Arian seemingly wanted Dumbledore dead for some reason.

At least, he divulged without any doubt that the old coot had made Arian a Dumbeldore through a blood ritual; one of his suspicions he felt absolutely certain about. And throughout it all, he expressly remarked upon, and insisted, that Arian posed a new threat to them since the light wizard was undoubtedly very powerful.

Regardless, Orion didn't perceive any worries on Voldemort's part. The dark wizard had simply listened to him with apparent dismissive disregard, and Orion finally barked out with exasperation, "Listen to me, I'm telling you that Arian is the one we should target from now on! I'm sure we are going to be seeing him during the war in England, and we have to dispose of him before even considering killing Dumbledore. The old coot is nothing compared to Arian!"

Voldemort arched a quizzical eyebrow at his outburst, and hissed in a low, quiet tone of voice, which Orion knew to be a sign to be wary of, "This Arian seems to be a touchy subject for you, if speaking of him has you so flustered and frazzled." His crimson eyes imperceptibly narrowed, whilst the man's face adopted an expression that Orion couldn't quite decipher. "And his reason for helping you escape makes me wonder what else you're not telling me."

"I've told you everything I know about him. And I repeat that I don't know why he helped me," snapped Orion angrily, before he clutched his lower torso when a wave of pain rippled through his body. He momentarily closed his eyes against the sickly nausea he felt, and added through clenched teeth, "He knew who I was, and seemed interested in me – surely because I am the Boy-Who-Lived, or something of the sort. I think he's like the old coot in that regard. Perhaps he wants to manipulate and use me against you, like Dumbledore wanted in the past."

At last, he opened his eyes to pierce the wizard with a demanding glare. "He's bad news for us, so will you trust me on this and consider him the most important threat to us?"

"I don't see why," hissed Voldemort, his tone sneeringly dismissive. "Even if he is a Dumbledore, the old man has decades of experience over him. This Arian is just one more young light wizard with delusions of grandeur and aspirations above himself. One more who will soon be easily crushed in the battlefield-"

"You always underestimate others," wheezed out Orion as crisply as he could, while he brushed a hand over his feverish forehead, gazing at him with half-lidded eyes. "Beware of that, Tom, it's your major weakness."

Voldemort's lips curled, before he gazed down at him from his looming height, hissing with impassive mockery, "And apparently yours is to foolishly become addicted to potions. Am I to assume that your current condition is due to the potion you allegedly have been taking to suppress your magical aura?"

"Yes," grunted Orion through clenched jaws, as he tried to stave off a groan of pain, clutching his stomach tighter. "I'm going into withdrawal, and it will last for about a week. The symptoms come and go, and I think they will get worse soon enough, since the potion was poison-based –"

"Poison-based?" spat Voldemort in a loud, enraged hiss, which seemed to thunder through Orion's ears and into his pounding skull.

It happened so quickly, that Orion didn't even have time to blink. He instantly felt sick, dizzy and disoriented when a sharp flick of the wizard's wand caused an invisible force to pull him from his seat. He found himself rigidly standing up against his will, as if tightly tied and pulled up in place by phantom cords.

A tingle of magic prickled through his body, something he recognized as some sort of diagnostic charm. And in the next moment he saw himself glowing yellow – it had to mean that his physical condition was not very good, he supposed, but he wasn't quite sure. He did understand, however, what the sharp bout of flaring pain in his forehead meant. And when he gazed up at Voldemort in startlement, he could not only feel the wizard's fury through his scar, but he could also see it in the man's dark, foreboding expression.

Orion's eyes unwittingly widened in dizzied confusion, for he had rarely seen the dark wizard looking so uncontrollably enraged. Everything about Voldemort seemed to blast off and vibrate with unrepressed and murdering fury – even the wizard's usually controlled magical aura was now plainly visible, flaring out. He was about to demand his release, and also an explanation, when his clothes were ripped away from his body, just seconds before something propelled him backwards.

A yelp of shock escaped from his lips as he felt himself flying backwards through the air, and then a grunt, when he somehow landed softly on something.

Gasping out a breath of air, Orion glanced around with wide eyes, until he realized that he was lying inside the large, four-poster bed, tucked under several covers, and completely immobile, with Voldemort now looming over him by the bedside.

"What the-" spluttered Orion, peering up at the dark wizard, his eyes glinting with fury. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?! Cancel the damned spell, release me-"

"You're staying here until you're well," hissed Voldemort impassively, so calmly that Orion almost doubted having seen the rage displayed on the wizard's face mere seconds ago.

"The hell I am!" spat Orion angrily, briskly trying to reach either of his wands.

Voldemort acted before he could succeed with his endeavor, by grasping the Phoenix wand lying far away on the floor, which had flown out from Orion's hand when propelled through the air. And summarily, the dark wizard ripped his other wand from the holster strapped on Orion's forearm, before he undid the straps of both holsters, leaving them on top of one nightstand.

"Look here," snapped Orion crisply, having forced himself to calm down in order to drill some sense into Voldemort's head, "I'm not staying in your bloody bedroom, nor anywhere else in Malfoy Manor-"

"You don't have anywhere else to go, do you?" hissed Voldemort sharply, his eyes briefly narrowing. "All Black properties are being surveilled by Aurors. This is the safest and the only place where you can stay – isn't it?"

"Er – well…" blubbered out Orion, his mind frenziedly spinning as he tried to come up with some believable alternative, since the last thing he wanted to disclose was his access to Potter Manor. He shook his head, trying to clear it, and barked out indignantly, "This might be the safest place but it's not where I want to stay! For the last two days I've been hiding in Durmstrang, not even the Danish Aurors found me when they inspected the school looking for me. And I asked Calypso if I could stay with her in Rosier Manor-"

"Neither are safe enough, since they are the most obvious hideouts for you," hissed Voldemort harshly, leveling him with a hard, unyielding gaze. "You WILL stay here until I give you permission to leave. And when you do, you'll tell me precisely where."

Orion bristled, and he aggressively shook his arms against his invisible restraints, as he spat out, "Fine, but cancel the bloody spell."

"It will fade once you fall asleep," hissed Voldemort calmly, his face stony and expressionless.

With an angered and exasperated grunt, Orion defeatedly plopped his head onto the fluffy pillows, already feeling too drained and tired to argue with the man any longer. After all, he would surely manage to escape as soon as he felt a little bit better. And for the time being –given that Draco was still lying unconscious in Potter Manor, and soon to be monitored by Calypso and her dad – it didn't really matter where he spent his week of detoxification.

"We'll continue what we were discussing, later," hissed Voldemort coolly, gazing down at him with an indecipherable expression on his face, while he tucked Orion's wands into his cloak's pocket, every movement of his being trailed by Orion's narrowed gaze. A thin, mocking smirk spread on the wizard's lips. "You'll get them back when you're better. After all, there's no point in you having them, since in your pathetic, weak condition you're useless, boy."

Orion shot him a baleful glower, before a resigned sigh escaped from his lips. But suddenly, something in his mind clicked into place; Grindelwald's former suspicions meshing with all of the perplexing happenings of that evening – Voldemort's strange attitude, the wizard's restraint when Orion had expected to be Crucioed on the spot several times, the diagnostic charm casted on him, and now being imprisoned in the man's bed and apparently to be somewhat looked-after during his week of detoxification.

His eyes widened in horror, something sickly twisted and churned in his stomach, and he gazed up at Voldemort as he breathed out shakily, "Have you ever done something to me against my will and knowledge?"

"Something to you?" hissed Voldemort sharply, narrowing his eyes at him. "Like what?"

"I don't bloody know," bit out Orion, his jaw clenching so hard that he felt as if his teeth were going to snap against each other. As his suspicions solidified and grew, he felt frenzied rage boiling up in him. Nevertheless, he didn't want to elucidate, because if he was wrong he certainly didn't want to give the wizard any ideas. "That's why I'm asking." He pierced the wizard with his eyes, and as he unsuccessfully tried to launch himself upwards, he yelled furiously, "HAVE YOU?!"

"No," snarled Voldemort in a short, angered hiss, boring his equally narrowed gaze into Orion's.

Orion intently stared into his eyes, and murmured shakily, his fury making his voice come out in a long, trembling tone, "You'd better be telling me the truth, because if I find out that you-"

"I haven't done anything to you, boy," hissed Voldemort, his tone impatient, harsh, and cutting. "Now rest. I have no use for a sick ally unable to even counter a levitating charm. There's a Dark Allies Meeting this Sunday evening, and you'd better be in shape by then. We have much to discuss." He narrowed his eyes at him, hissing caustically, "And we have to plan what you'll disclose regarding your relation to Grindelwald and about your other blunderings and exploits."

And with that, before Orion could even retort, the wizard was out of the room, the sound of the door being slammed shut echoing loudly throughout the vastness of the bedroom.

Tightly scrunching his eyes close, still feeling the surge of anger coiling inside him, Orion bit into his lower lip and sagged on the mattress, still without being able to freely move his limbs. He was uncomfortable, felt sick and nauseous, though he didn't know if it was now caused by the potion-withdrawal symptoms or by the wild suspicions spinning in his dizzy and increasingly feverish mind. Nevertheless, something sluggish seemed to be creeping along the edges of his mind, like a soft, cuddling mantle wrapping around his awareness.

And with the last realization that Voldemort had at some point casted a wandless sleeping charm on him, Orion grumbled sluggishly, cursing the man to the deepest pit of the foulest hell he could possibly concoct in his imagination, and inexorably fell into a deep, profound slumber.


He was dreaming… he felt plush and cozy warmness enveloping him in an intimate embrace, soft caresses trailed over his feverish, hot skin, as long fingers gently massaged the taut muscles of his arms and flat belly… Orion murmured into his pillow, slowly and lazily stretching his aching limbs, like a cat stretching in the midst of fluff puffs of cushions…

The warmth around him felt very familiar, and he sighed in blissful contentment as the caresses continued trailing over his body, feeling his muscles relaxing under the touch, the slight waves of pain ebbing away… Yet he knew he had to be dreaming, since his awareness merely seemed to be a thin flicker of silver far away in some dark, distant horizon... And the warm hands kept touching every inch of his skin, all the sensations meshed with a soft, foggy veil of deep slumber… So very familiar, the warmth… such gentleness, it could only be…

"Lezander?" murmured Orion, still half asleep and with no desire to wake up from such a dream.

"No."

The sharp, caustic hiss speared into his consciousness like the stab of an ice-pick. Orion's eyes snapped wide open, his body rigidly tensing as he glanced around, feeling dizzily disoriented.

When the dim moonlight flickered through the heavy curtains, barely lightening his surroundings, it finally all came back to him, remembering where he was. A groan of disappointment escaped from his lips, his deeply pleasant dream having completely faded away from his mind, and he snuggled his face into the pillow.

But the dream-like hands kept trailing over his body, now the caresses having more pressure and strength in them, the touch more palpable… more real… Orion yelped in startlement, and swiftly spun around in the bed, his eyes wide, trying to distinguish something in the darkness of the room.

He came face to face with narrowed crimson eyes, they looked angry for some reason, and then the rest of Voldemort's features seemed to unveil from the shadows. With round eyes, he stared at the wizard, not knowing what to think or say. He raised an arm, whether to push the man away or to grab him, he didn't quite know yet.

But it proved pointless, his arm dropped like a heavy lift the moment he tried to stretch it forward… and his mind still felt foggy and sluggish… the sleeping charm still had some residue effect over him, but at least the restraining spell had already vanished, as Voldemort had promised… Voldemort… and the caressing hands… it hadn't been a dream… it had been Voldemort's hands… What the…

"What the hell are you…" mumbled out Orion, slowly shaking his head, unsuccessfully trying to clear it from his persisting drowsiness.

"Helping you, boy," came a harsh hiss, and Orion grimaced at the sound while he fretfully rubbed his eyes – anything to rid him from the pervading feeling of still being half asleep.

Even the hiss seemed to be echoing very loudly in his mind… echoing, echoing, echoing… and he didn't like to be called a boy. Nope, he definitely didn't.

"No, I don't," muttered Orion darkly, slowly peeling an eyelid open, checking if Voldemort was there.

Yup, the wizard was there. But he should be angry at him, shouldn't he? Yes, yes, he knew he had some reason to be angry… ahh, yes, he remembered quite clearly… but… Ah, well, he didn't care at present… He only wanted his dream back… What had happened to the hands?… Oh, yeah, there they are… Oh, rubbing along his muscles… Ah, the aches were going away… Voldemort had to be using some soothing, healing spell… Wait, why would the wizard be helping him out? That wasn't like Voldemort… Nope, not at all…

Ohhh, that felt good… But he was like a sitting duck, wasn't he? Voldemort could shoot at him one of those nasty green lights, and he would puff!, die… but, ahhh, he'd be dying a happy man… but Voldemort had to know that if he tried to do something harmful to him, he would take revenge… and it would be painful, and vicious, and bloody scary… yeah, he could be damned scary and sadistic too… Voldemort had to know that already… but he should tell him, just in case… because, yeah, he could be bloody scary too… very scary…

Oi! What the bloody hell was the matter with his freaking thoughts? Orion groaned, attempting to massage his temples, and some coherence to his mind while he was at it. He felt as if his mind possessed the intellectual capability of an infant… nay, of a Blumbering Blabby Boo… that was a magical creature, wasn't it? What the…

"What the hell have you done to me?" slurred out Orion, shooting the wizard a baleful glare. "You've drugged meee…"

"I fed you a potion that will help you recover sooner," hissed Voldemort sharply, but Orion couldn't quite discern the wizard's expression in such darkness. "The aches over your body have dimmed in intensity already, haven't they?"

Orion frowned – well, he tried to frown, at least, but he didn't know how it came out. But he was frowning, because he frowned, sometimes, when he was thinking. And now he was trying to think about Voldemort's question. Ah, yes, the answer was 'yes'. But who cared? Oh, he cared… he cared about the bloody potion he had been fed unawares… Ohh, but those hands were still massaging him… now his chest… He looked down at them… Yes, those were Voldemort's hands… how could they feel so soft, warm, and gentle? They never felt so… Ohhh, that felt very, very good… they were going down… down, down, down… towards…

"Oi, watch what you're touching!" he spluttered out, weakly swatting those pesky, pesky hands… wonderful, amazing hands, with looong fingers… but… "No groping!"

"I'm not groping, you retarded fool," snarled Voldemort. "And there's nothing you have that I haven't seen or touched before."

The wizard sounded angry… or miffed? No, Voldemort could never just sound 'miffed', he always sounded angry, scary angry, evil angry. Yes, scary and evil, those were it.

Orion glanced up at him again, and blinked. Voldemort didn't look scary or evil, he looked… weird… well, aggravated, very aggravated… the man seemed to be in a foul mood… but the picture he presented was a weird one… a Dark Lord massaging him, helping his muscles relax for the aches and pain to fade away… Something was not right with this scenario… Unless…

"Are you seducin' me?"

Voldemort shot him what he could only consider to be a very dark and lethal glare, but then… Oh, the wizard was smirking… one of those sly and devious upturned twists of the lips that he sometimes hated so much, that he sometimes wished to punch out from his condescending face… but it was such a handsome face… manly, dark… yes, dark… Voldemort always looked dark, and bloody attractive too… darkly so… the bastard…

"It has been a long while for you, hasn't it?" hissed Voldemort, the smirk still present there, and it looked wider, the man's expression one of vicious superiority.

Ah, he could discern his expression, at last! The foggy veil from his eyes seemed to be dissolving away, though his surroundings were still very dimly lit. Orion frowned, and forcefully rubbed his forehead, feeling a frisson of ease and relief when he detected that his limbs didn't feel as heavy as before. Though he still felt sluggish. Ah, but now he was thinking straight!

He breathed out an exhalation of victory. He realized that he still wasn't completely recovered from whatever potion Voldemort had forced down his throat during his spell-induced sleep. But at least he didn't feel as if he was channeling a two-year-old. Yes, his cognitive capacities were quickly improving.

Remembering the question, he jerked his head up to glance at the wizard, as he quickly figured out what the man had been referring to.

Orion snorted, and countered bitingly, "And for you as well, I surmise."

At Voldemort's silence, he pierced the wizard with a narrowed gaze, but he soon masked his expression to one of utter indifference and looked away. He shouldn't care whether the man had bedded others, should he? No, he definitely shouldn't. But the possibility still stung, painfully and sharply.

Focusing his gaze on the pillow on which his head was resting, Orion frowned as he detected a weird taste in his mouth. He loudly smacked his lips together, moved around his tongue, and finally swallowed, a sense of relief encompassing him when he recognized the flavor in his mouth. Voldemort hadn't lied to him. He remembered tasting this potion in Healing Dark Arts with Petra Podroff.

The wizard had indeed given him a mild potion used to sooth aches. For now, it was working, though he knew that it was temporary. More of that potion would probably help him out during the week, but not enough to completely stave off all the symptoms, according to what Grindelwald had once told him. But at least it was something, and given that he had no choice but to stay there, he would demand from Voldemort more of it. And the wizard better deliver, or he would act as unbearably and snottily brattish as he could and make the man's life a living hell.

Relaxing further, and still feeling drowsy, Orion slowly stretched under the bed covers, embracing his pillow with both arms, making himself comfortable, as he side-glanced at Voldemort.

His eyesight had already adjusted to the darkness, and he could see the wizard's profile and the shape of his body under the sheets. Hours must have passed since their meeting, since Voldemort looked tired, as if the man had been busy for quite some time before calling it a night. The man's black hair was disorderly ruffled, his chest bare, and he caught a peek of silk, black pajama pants under one of the bed covers.

And he could also distinguish the Black heirloom silver chain coiled around the wizard's neck, the pendant lying innocently on the man's chest. He was almost tempted to touch it, to feel the piece of soul inside it, the one he had transferred from the Resurrection Stone of the Gaunt ring.

Glancing at Voldemort's face, he detected slight dark circles under the wizard's crimson eyes – something he hadn't paid attention to before. It was clear that Voldemort hadn't had a good night sleep for quite some time, and knowing him, it had to be due to work – that is, planning the war and the annihilation or subjugation of those he considered to be underneath his standards, muggles and mudbloods, no doubt.

But at present, Orion didn't concern himself over those matters. In fact, he didn't want to think about any serious issues. He still felt exhausted, drained, and about to topple over with sleepy tiredness. Nevertheless, his mind didn't seem to want to forget the 'dream', or better said, the way Voldemort's hands had moved over his body. And it was all the man's fault, even more so for having brought up the sex subject.

Orion muffled a groan, biting down his tongue. He had been fine until now. He hadn't thought about sex in ages… Er, well, not exactly. He was a teenager after all; sex popped into his mind constantly, but he had always been too busy and too stressed to dwell on it. He had simply taken matters into his own hands, literally, whenever he found the spare time for it, and that happened once every blue moon. But satisfying oneself wasn't the same thing as… He shot Voldemort another surreptitious side-glance. Nope, it definitely wasn't the same thing.

He quietly sighed, turning his gaze towards the ceiling. Yes, better focus on that, because having sex with Voldemort out of the blue, given the circumstances, was a very bad idea. They weren't spouses anymore, at least in practice if not officially, and it would be blurring the boundaries and complicating matters between them. They were strictly allies now, though…

Though, Calypso had indeed said that sex was a tool that he should use, since it was important for Voldemort and him to 'fix' matters between them to present a united front during the war. And Calypso was a smart girl, wasn't she? The brightest he had ever known, even more than Hermione, because Calypso was sly as well, and ruthless and tough when required. Yes, he should follow Calypso's advice, she was rarely wrong.

On the other hand, what exactly would he be getting into if he intimately engaged himself with Voldemort again? It could end up in disaster, undermine his hard-earned position as a leader of the Dark independent from Voldemort. He wasn't Voldemort's spouse in the eyes of others anymore, not since the Death Eaters found out about their separation. He was now 'Lord Black', and if he…

Oh, who was he kidding? He wanted, nay, needed to get laid. And bugger the consequences. What consequences? It would simply be no-strings-attached sex, and that was that. And he had never lacked lust for Voldemort, no matter how pissed off he was, or how much he wanted to Avada the man.

Furthermore, there was also Voldemort's strange behavior towards him. Helping him out, in his way, not seriously attacking him during their meeting, giving him the muscle-soothing potion, and the bloody gentle caresses… Orion glanced at the wizard again, his eyes narrowing in musing evaluation. It could have been all purposely orchestrated, also considering the man's leading question.

Voldemort could have planned out everything beforehand, but he sincerely didn't really care. Even if his most scary suspicions were correct, there was little he could do about it. He had straightforwardly asked, and Voldemort had denied having done anything to him against his knowledge or will. Not that he had expected to be told otherwise, but it was clear that he wouldn't get the truth out of the wizard. And if Grindelwald had been right in his suspicions…

Orion clenched his jaw, looking away from the wizard with a deep, angered frown. Well, he could do nothing but wait, and if it happened, he would deal with it. But he wouldn't change his plans or goals. He would go on as if nothing had changed. And he would certainly directly participate in battles - that was something he wouldn't and couldn't give up. And he should stop thinking about it! He would cross that bridge if or when he got there, and that was the end of it. But if…

He gritted his teeth, and focused his gaze and attention back to Voldemort and to more irrelevant musings, or he would go mad if he kept thinking about the horrifying possibility. Though one thing was certain, he would make the wizard pay dearly if it was the case. Oh, yes, he would make him suffer, more than the wizard ever surely had. He wasn't someone to be meddled with, and it was high time that Voldemort got that through his head.

But, for now, sex… Yes, he found the idea more than acceptable. Use Voldemort for sex, why the bloody hell not?

Finally feeling determined, and mentally exhausted from his internal monologue, Orion openly gazed at the wizard, making no overtures but neither concealing the way he was piercingly staring at the man. However, to his chagrin, Voldemort didn't seem to be paying any attention to him. The wizard actually looked asleep. The man's eyes were closed, his chest rhythmically rose and fell, and his face looked relaxed, and Orion was having none of it.

A spur of indignant anger flared inside him, and he forcefully stabbed a finger into the wizard's ribs, repeatedly.

Some sort of hiss escaped from Voldemort's lips, before the wizard rolled to a side to face him, piercing him with irritated crimson eyes. "What?"

"What do you mean 'what'?" snapped Orion caustically, glowering at him. "What the hell are you doing, is what I want to know."

Voldemort narrowed his eyes, and hissed icily, "Sleeping, as should have been plainly obvious to you, boy. Now lay still and quiet or I'll gag you and curse you into-"

"Yeah, right," snorted Orion. "I don't feel like sleeping, so you aren't either." He shot him a cocky smirk, and added pointedly, "You shouldn't have given me the potion to make me feel better if you simply wanted me to doze off."

"I can easily remedy that," hissed Voldemort in a deadly, menacing tone of voice.

But Orion was utterly unperturbed, since the point of the matter was that the wizard was now awake and would remain so for a long while, if he had anything to say about it. Satisfied, he lazily rolled to a side to face the wizard as well, tucking an arm under his head, as he quizzically arched an eyebrow. "Why did you give me the potion? Why did you help me at all?"

"You were whining and moaning in pain during your sleep," hissed Voldemort acidly, "disturbing, in turn, MY sleep. So I solved the inconvenience."

"Why take the trouble to nurse me?" interjected Orion, his smirk widening. "You could have slept somewhere else."

"I didn't 'nurse' you, and this is MY bed," hissed Voldemort irritably, leveling him with a hard gaze. "I will sleep nowhere else."

"And yet," said Orion nonchalantly, "you decided to put me in here." He nastily grinned at him, and added loftily, "Why is that?"

Voldemort narrowed his eyes, and hissed out harshly, "Get to whatever you want to say, boy. You're wasting my precious resting time."

Orion glared at him with annoyance, but he wasn't going to beat around the bush. He wasn't a girl, who usually waited for the other to take the first step. He was a man, and he would demand sex if he bloody well felt like it.

"I want to have sex," he snapped impatiently.

Voldemort merely arched an eyebrow, and hissed impassively, "Do you now? And why should I accommodate you?"

"Why not?" bit out Orion, glowering at him as he extended a hand to grab the wizard's nape. "Now you're the one wasting my bloody time, Tom. Let's just get on with it."

"Beg for it," hissed Voldemort silkily, his lips curling into a vicious smirk, while he quickly clutched Orion's hand before it reached its destiny.

"Stuff it, Tom," spat Orion angrily, leveling him with a narrowed glare, yanking his hand free before he swiftly rolled around to face the curtained windows, punching his pillow to supposedly make it fluffier as he sunk his head into it.

"If I agree to this-"

"If you agree?" snapped Orion over his shoulder. "You aren't doing me any favors!"

Abruptly, his chin was yanked to a side, forced to stare sideways at Voldemort, who was suddenly looming around him, piercing him with intense crimson eyes. "IF I agree to this, it will change nothing. Make no mistakes, my little serpent, you have already cost me too much, and I already washed my hands from you. Do you understand?"

Orion narrowed his eyes at him, and said crisply, "Of course."

"Good," hissed Voldemort, his crimson eyes glinting with satisfaction, while a sly smirk tugged his lips.

Without sparing another second, the wizard wrapped his arms around him from behind, turning him around to make them lie chest to chest. But, abruptly, the wizard released him and clutched Orion's face with a tight grip, demanding in a low, sharp hiss, "How long has it been for you?"

"Again with the same bloody question?" retorted Orion irritably. "You know how long it has been, you were involved the last time."

"I see," hissed Voldemort, his smirk widening, while something glinted in his eyes which Orion couldn't quite decipher.

"And you?" asked Orion, narrowing his eyes at him, before he quickly shook his head and added indifferently, "Nevermind, I couldn't care less."

Voldemort quirked an eyebrow superiorly. "Indeed?"

"Yes," said Orion coolly, before he swiftly closed a hand around the back of the wizard's head, entwining his fingers with the man's black locks of hair.

He pulled their faces together and wasted no time in meshing his lips against the wizard's, forcing his tongue into the man's mouth. Unexpectedly, Voldemort's lips yielded to him, seemingly allowing him to take control of the kiss. Orion didn't think about it twice, and he wrapped one arm over the wizard's shoulders as he delved his tongue deeper, intensifying the kiss while he felt a wave of arousal flaring throughout his body. Even through the kiss, he could feel that Voldemort was smirking, but he honestly couldn't care less. This was about him satisfying his need, nothing else.

Orion briefly pulled away to take a breath of air, before he continued by nibbling along the wizard's jaw, moving to his neck, and then following to a pale ear, into which he whispered huskily, "Take your pants off."

Voldemort gazed at him with a mocking smirk on his lips, and he hissed silkily, "In a hurry, are we? You sound quite needy-"

"Save it," snapped Orion briskly, paying the wizard no mind while he hooked his fingers on the waistband of the wizard's pants, starting to tug them down. "I don't want to 'chat', and even less listen to your disparaging remarks."

With utter impassivity, Voldemort merely raised a hand, but as soon as Orion saw it, he clutched the wizard's wrist, and shot him a large smirk. "No, take them off without using a spell. Do it manually, I want to watch you."

Voldemort narrowed his eyes at him, his distaste for the command clear in his expression. Nevertheless, for whatever reason, the wizard obeyed. Piercing Orion with his gaze, he started lowering his pants, and Orion understood the motive for Voldemort's acquiescence when he detected that the wizard was observing him as intently as he was observing the man. Though, the wizard was obviously garnering some form of entertainment from it, given the jeering amusement glinting in his crimson eyes.

Without giving a pixie's arse about how the dark wizard persisted in mocking him in whatever way he could, Orion kept closely observing the man, only helping out by yanking the bed covers away from them before they became a nuisance by entangling themselves around their legs.

When the black, silk pajama pants were finally discarded, he blatantly trailed his gaze over the wizard's body, with evident appreciation. The man's body was overcastted in shadows, given that the darkness of the room was only broken by the dim moonlight filtering through the heavy curtains. However, he could make out the long, hard lines of the wizard's torso and long, sturdy legs.

Orion slowly grinned at him, while he inched his way forward, ghosting his lips over Voldemort's, as he whispered cockily, "You are very good at obeying my orders, Tom. Pity we didn't discover this earlier. Things could have ended better between us."

Before giving the wizard a chance to hiss out something undoubtedly cruelly hurtful, he locked their mouths together, plunging his tongue into a deep, demanding kiss, as he pulled a leg over Voldemort's waist, hooking it on the man's lower back. He bucked against the wizard's taller body, and a groan of pleasure was muffled in their kiss when their arousals rubbed together.

Suddenly, when Voldemort started taking control over the kiss by battling his tongue against Orion's and tightly wrapping an arm over him, pulling him even closer, Orion firmly pulled away with a pant for air.

"Slow down," murmured Orion, whilst he tried to find a way to subtly gain the upper hand.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes at him, leveling him with a harsh gaze, and hissed sharply, "I'm not in a mood to play games, boy -"

"Hush," hissed Orion calmly, a peculiar and tempting idea entering his mind, "and let me try something I'm curious about."

His gaze locked on the elegant silver pendant dangling sideways from Voldemort's neck, with the ornate bejeweled B engraved on it. He stretched out a hand and his fingertips slowly caressed the pendant, his heart suddenly pounding fast in his chest when he felt a familiar pull tugging at him. The little piece of soul inside him felt as it was stirring and rising, as if sensing the closeness of its partner in the pendant-horcrux.

He felt Voldemort stiffening, and Orion peered up at him, not quite knowing what the man was thinking, since his facial features were completely expressionless. Nevertheless, the wizard's crimson eyes were intensely staring at him, and then followed his every move when he used his free hand to grab Voldemort's, molding his fingers over the wizard's longer ones and directing them at the hand he was using to touch the pendant.

He made Voldemort's fingertips graze the knuckles of his left hand, until reaching the invisible-glamoured ring he had always wore since their bonding ceremony – the Slytherin heirloom he had been given by the wizard, with the shape of two intertwined serpents, one with emerald eyes, the other with ruby ones, which contained another of Voldemort's pieces of soul.

Their fingertips reached it at the same time, and Orion's eyes widened with astounded wonder when he felt the tugging sensation becoming more powerful, the little piece of soul inside him climbing, rising upwards, as blood seemed to rush faster through his veins, something strongly vibrating inside him. And with wide eyes he saw his own magical aura strongly reacting to the connection; black, rippling tendrils swirling around his fingers, seemingly reaching out towards the pendant he was caressing, towards Voldemort's chest, as they also coiled over the invisible ring he wore.

All of a sudden, he was feeling lightheaded, his mind faintly dizzy, while he was encompassed by a sense of enveloping warmth and languorous contentment, accompanied by a pulsing, mounting force that seemed to roll through his body.

A strange sound escaped from Voldemort's throat, and Orion glanced up at him with glazed eyes, never breaking their connection, no matter the strange sensations, still caressing the pendant, the man's chest, and his own bonding ring. He couldn't quite figure out what Voldemort was feeling, or his reaction to it, but it was clear that the man had to be feeling something even stronger than what he did, since it was the wizard's horcruxes they were touching, forming a link between them all.

The strange feelings seemed to intensify the longer the connection was maintained, and Orion felt as if everything was moving in slow motion, themselves included. As if they were being wrapped over by a mantle of plush and ever so familiar warmth, a peculiar yet powerful feeling of completeness, and a vibrating sensation of climbing power. His own magical core seemed to be reacting strongly to it, thrumming agitatedly inside him, making his exterior magical aura visibly thicken, pulsing erratically.

The myriad of sensations briefly took his breath away, but he would have been unable to pull away even if he wanted to. He felt mesmerized by what he was feeling, and he suddenly wanted to feel it more intensely.

"Release control over your magical core," he breathed out, peering into Voldemort's unreadable crimson eyes. "I want to feel your aura against mine."

He felt the wizard doing so when he saw a veil of pulsating darkness covering the man's body, meshing with his own denser, blacker and wilder one as he pressed his body closer to the wizard's. The moment he did, all the sensations seemed to escalate, and he panted out a breath as he gazed at his hands pressed against Voldemort's chest.

His left hand was pressed over the pendant, fingertips stretched out to touch the wizard's skin underneath. Voldemort's own hand was pressed over Orion's, fingers touching Orion's bonding ring, while Orion's other hand was placed on top of that, completing the circle. All of it was meshed by their combined auras, which seemed to be cocooning them in thrumming blackness and rippling warmth.

The differences between their auras was evident, and Orion caught sight of a dark frown spreading over Voldemort's face as the man's crimson gaze took notice of it. But the man's expression lasted a few seconds, turning back to a mask of impassivity. Yet Orion knew that the wizard had to be affected by the sensations nonetheless.

Abruptly, he saw Voldemort's eyes narrowing quizzically, and before he knew it, he felt the man's free hand stretching out towards his face, long fingers soon trailing over his scar. Orion gasped, his eyes widening, everything seeming to intensify further at the wizard's touch. Even Voldemort's own expression looked momentarily surprised, the crimson eyes imperceptibly widening, yet the man didn't pull his fingers away.

Orion bore his glazed, glinting eyes into Voldemort's, panting loudly, as he felt the connection intensifying, the pull becoming stronger, deeper, relentless, his own magic rushing throughout him. He felt as if he was in the midst of a spinning whirlwind; his head dizzied, his heart thundering in his chest, their dark magic visibly swirling and meshing together along their bodies, darkness enveloping them, and a feeling of belonging, contentment and blissful peacefulness suffusing all his senses.

Mesmerized, Orion gazed at their bodies pressed against each other and at the intertwined auras covering them. And suddenly, laughter bubbled from his lips, as he experienced all the feelings relentlessly rolling and spreading throughout him, as if he was riding a rollercoaster of intense sensations.

Delighted laughter kept springing from his lips, while his fingers kept caressing the bonding ring, the pendant, and Voldemort's chest, continuously, alternatively, incessantly, as he felt Voldemort's fingers grazing his forehead.

"It's amazing," he chuckled out, shooting a glance at Voldemort. "Do you feel it, Tom?" He shook his head, trying to clear it, and glanced down at their auras, breathing out, "It's bloody beautiful. Do you see it? Do you feel it?"

At the wizard's silence, he glanced up at him again, seeing a strange expression on the man's face. He was about to ask if something was wrong, but his words were muffled when Voldemort's lips crashed against his. His eyes fluttered close, and he moaned into the deep, hungry kiss when Voldemort wrapped a strong arm over his back, pressing them tightly together, as his mind felt as if it was spiraling upwards into blissful plushness. Every thought flew away from his mind, feeling too far-off to do anything but drown in the sensations flowing over him.

Orion distantly heard Voldemort murmuring a spell, and then a tingle spread over his lower back. As if in slow motion, he felt the wizard's lips grazing down his neck, then kissing along his collarbone, as a strong hand grabbed his leg, hooking it around the wizard's waist. And, suddenly, his back arched and a groan was ripped from his throat when he felt the wizard entering him with a long, deep thrust. A pinch of pain flared from his lower body at being stretched so suddenly without preparation, but it soon ebbed away, as the man continued burying himself inside him, more slowly and gently.

Soon, he was being held tightly in place, one of the man's hands clutching the leg he had wrapped around the wizard, the other grabbing the back of his neck, as Voldemort kept pushing into him in slow, rocking thrusts, while the wizard's lips attacked his neck again. And Orion felt too out of it to do anything but move in synchrony with the man's thrusts, their undulating motions rhythmically slow and passionately languorous.

He lifted his hands and ran them down the wizard's back, feeling the strong muscles there flexing with each thrust. And he finally tightly winded his fingers into Voldemort's hair, throwing his head back as he met each of the wizard's plunges, making the man push in inside him as deep as he could. Suddenly, when rolling waves of pleasure started surging through his body, he began feeling weightless and dizzy with the crescendo of meshing sensations.

Everything seemed to be merging, heightening and fusing together; the slow rocking of their hips, the feeling of the wizard moving in and out of him, the flare of pleasure that flashed through his body as his hard arousal tightly rubbed against the wizard's stomach, the heated kisses trailing along his outstretched neck, the rising fluttering of the piece of soul inside him, the warmth of the body undulating against his, the tugging pull from the pendant pressed between their chest, the familiar tingle coursing from his bonding ring, and the cocoon-like feeling of their auras enveloping them in cuddling darkness.

Before he knew it, all seemed to erupt in explosive bursts of pleasure, and a loud moan escaped from his lips as he heard Voldemort voicing his own release, while something warm flooded his insides. Finally slowly opening his eyes, Orion gazed at the wizard who was still tightly holding him in his arms, catching sight of the sheen of perspiration covering the wizard's hard chest, the fast breaths coming out from the man's mouth, the glazed over, half-lidded crimson eyes, and also of the strange expression that spread over the wizard's face as the man gazed back at him.

He didn't quite know how to interpret it; it could be pensiveness tinged with a flicker of possessiveness, or unease and wariness meshed with a pinch of cold calculation, or a mix of all.

Nevertheless, Orion didn't have the presence of mind to do anything but mumble faintly, "T'was amazing."

And a second later he didn't fight it when he felt a mantle of darkness wrapping over his awareness, everything quickly darkening as he slumped limply on the bed.


Orion opened his eyes with a snap when a surge of pain thundered throughout his body. Letting out a grunt, he tightly wrapped an arm over his stomach, before he cried out and arched his back when another bout of pain flared along his backside. Grumbling under his breath, he blearily peered at his surroundings.

Given the sunlight that filtered through the curtains, it was already the afternoon of the following day. He felt a flicker of embarrassment as he remembered how he had blacked out after having reached his peak with Voldemort. And he hadn't lasted too long either, to his chagrin.

Nevertheless, another wave of rippling pain forced him to focus on his present situation, making him realize that he was feeling worse than before. His body felt feverishly hot, there was a persistent trembling of his limbs, and his head pounded as if he had been ran over by the Knight Bus. To his relief, he felt clean, the only thing sticky being his own feverish perspiration that seemed to sheen over every inch of his skin. And to his surprise, he was also clothed with a shrunken pair of Voldemort's pants.

However, the dark wizard was nowhere to be seen, and Orion was quite certain that the man had woken up very early and was still presently working on war-plots, somewhere in the Manor. He doubted that he would see him anytime soon.

This was confirmed when he saw several items on top of the nightstand at his side; a tray containing two bowls with food and a cold glass of water, several flasks of what he recognized as the pain-soothing potion that Voldemort had fed him last night, and –to his increasing surprise- his two wands.

He didn't know if the latter meant that Voldemort was now expecting him to leave the Manor. And to be honest, he really didn't care, because he was going nowhere. He felt extremely ill and doubted if he could take one step without curling in on himself and whimpering. And, after last night, he definitely wasn't going anywhere. He wanted a repeat performance.

He eyed the bowls with steamy food with revulsion, feeling a wave of sickly nausea twisting his stomach. And he glanced at the potion flasks with yearning, since he knew that he couldn't take one so soon, given that he didn't want to become addicted to yet another potion. He would have to wait until nightfall to drown down another dose, and it would at least help him to go asleep without waking up due to painful aches. He didn't have any other option but to bear the potion-withdrawal symptoms during the day.

Orion shakily stretched out a hand towards the glass of water, and he almost knocked everything to the floor when a sudden 'pop' made him jerk up in startlement. His sudden move made a wave of dizzy sickness spin in his head, and he slumped back down on the bed, slowly massaging his temples.

At last, he slowly opened his eyes again, and blinked twice when he blurrily saw a greenish face nose-to-nose with his.

"Dobby?" he wheezed out, blinking again to see if he was now having hallucinations of the most unexpected kind.

He was given a wide, relieved smile, before the house-elf pulled away, still standing on top of the bed, bent over him.

"Dobby found master!" said the house-elf happily, proudly puffing out his chin chest. Then an annoyed expression spread over his greenish features, and the creature grumbled, "Master's nasty, bossy friend threatened Dobby. I is looking for Master anyway. Dobby don't need to be threatened-"

"Calypso and her father are already at Potter Manor, then? Hang on, how did you get in…" Orion trailed off, and stared at the house-elf with wide eyes, before he breathed out, "You still have access through the wards…" He shook his head, and mumbled under his breath, "This is Lucius' doing."

This piece of news was very interesting in his opinion. The sly wizard had left a tiny loophole when passing control of Malfoy Manor's wards to Voldemort. And it was most significant. Through Snape, Lucius knew that Draco was with him, and the wizard also knew that Dobby had become his house-elf some time ago when Narcissa wanted to get rid of what she considered to be a pest in her home.

This was a sign that Lucius was willing to align himself with him, for Draco's sake. But it also left him wondering what other plots the wizard had, for it was obvious that Lucius was no longer loyal to Voldemort after what had happened.

"I is done what Master Orion ordered," said Dobby emphatically, suddenly presenting in front of Orion's nose an enormous stack of what seemed to be countless letters amidst some wizarding newspapers.

Orion's eyebrows shot upwards at the sheer amount of correspondence, before he caught sight of the Daily Prophet peeking out. He slowly took the bundle, and grunted as he laid all of it on top of the bed covers.

Warily, he glanced at the closed double doors of the bedroom, and said quietly, "If you sense someone coming down the hall outside, I want you to instantly disapparate." He waved a hand at the letters and newspapers. "And take all of this with you. But for now, give me some time to read them, in case I need to send a reply." He speared the house-elf with a glance, and added gravely, "You did well today, but you mustn't come here again to see me or to bring me anything. It's too risky. No one must know that you still have access to Malfoy Manor. Do you understand?"

"Dobby understands," said the house-elf adamantly, repeatedly bobbing his head up and down. "And I wait till Master Orion is done."

"Make yourself comfortable," said Orion warmly, invitingly patting the place beside him.

The house-elf beamed a dazzling smile at him, his large eyes watery with gratefulness, as he quickly sat on top of the bed covers, with his short, thin legs crossed over each other.

After gulping down the glass of cold, fresh water, and then slowly massaging his temples, feeling the nausea and feverish sickness momentarily ebbing away, Orion proceeded to peruse the Daily Prophet before attempting to check his mail. He soon discovered why he had received such a flabbergasting amount of letters when his gaze landed on the Daily Prophet's front page.

There it was in all its splendor: a wizarding picture of Grindelwald's statue, beautifully sparkling under rays of sunlight, in all its icy, blazing glory, perched on top of the highest peak of the highest mountain in the Alps, while puzzled and exasperated–looking wizards –who had to be from the Swiss Ministry of Magic- moved around it, apparently casting spells at it.

Orion felt a trickle of somber grief and melancholic sadness, as his fingertips brushed the picture, thinking about what it had represented to him, but he then smiled widely. And his smile grew even larger as he read the main article. It was just as he had imagined, and what he had impatiently been waiting and hoping for.

The article was riddled with speculations about the origin of the monument, the reason behind it, and about its possible creator. And for once, even the wildest speculation was right. As happened nowadays, light wizards blamed him for everything. And in this case, they were right. After all, he had blatantly left his magical imprint on the statue. It had been detected, and the Swiss Ministry officials had also confirmed that under the monument laid the ashes of one Gellert Grindelwald. And given what the article said, the uproar in the wizarding community had been instantaneous and very frenzied.

Scrimgeour had issued a public statement promising that an investigation was already underway to determine the precise date and cause of Gellert Grindelwald's death, as well as finding out if their main suspect –Orion Black- was indeed guilty of one more crime. The Minister also reassured that considerable efforts, and all of the Aurors' resources, were being focused on capturing him, to be interrogated and then made to stand trial for what had happened at Hogwarts two days ago and now also for another count of murder. But Scrimgeour refused to comment on the subject of whether 'Orion Black' was indeed Grindelwald's grandson, as speculated and by now believed by everyone.

Supremely satisfied, Orion smirked as he folded the Daily Prophet, while he rested back on the bed's headboard. The state of affairs in the light wizard community was simply beautiful. It was pure chaos: political recriminations and power-struggles; civil unease, protests, and outcries; and wrapping it all like a powerful undercurrent, wary fear.

Orion slowly licked his lips, his green eyes glinting, his smirk widening. He could taste it in his mouth – their terrified fear of him. And it tasted like heaven.

Now that everyone realized that he had killed a former Dark Lord –his own grandfather, at that- and allied himself with another he had already felled once, they truly feared him. To them, he was no longer a problematic boy trying to play in the big leagues. They considered him to be a greater threat than Voldemort himself. The prophecy was no longer seen like a ray of hope, but one of doom. It was perfect; the grounds ripe for plucking.

At last, he perused the countless letters, seeing that most of them were from dark wizards and witches he had never met before, from all over Europe, only their surnames sometimes ringing a bell. And mixed between those letters, he found two missives that he welcomed, though he was surprised by them nonetheless.

One was from Cedric Diggory, demanding the explanations he had promised to the young Auror when asking him to spare Draco Malfoy from being captured, in exchange for the life debt Cedric owed him. The other was from Fleur Delacour, who more subtly and gently asked how much of what was printed in the newspapers was true.

In the end, he didn't reply to any letters. There wasn't anything useful he could say to Cedric or Fleur. They were on the Light's side and he was on the Dark's. Despite the friendship they had formed during the Triwizard Tournament, he knew that nothing he could say could make them accept his chosen allegiances. They already knew the truth, even if they didn't want to believe it. And if they didn't, they would get their answers and see it for themselves in the battlefield.

Finally, the last letter he read was from Remus, confirming the date and time for the meeting with the Alphas of continental Europe. He fleetingly remembered that Voldemort had said that there would be a Dark Allies Meeting on Sunday evening. So it seemed that Sunday would be a long day for him, considering that his meeting with the Alphas was scheduled for that day as well, in the afternoon. It still gave him time to go from one meeting to the next.

Deciding to get through all of it in one day, he waved a hand, conjuring an inked quill and a piece of parchment, and wrote a short letter to Snape, followed by one to Roman Komorov. To Snape, he asked the wizard to surreptitiously inform Lucius that he would meet the man at the Headmaster's office in Durmstrang, right after the Dark Allies meeting. He had no doubt that Lucius knew how to make his way to the school without being detected.

To Komorov, he informed him of such meeting and asked if it could take place in the wizard's office, as well as to make sure that no one in the school found out about it –be it professors who spent their holidays there, or any Danish Auror who was surveilling the school.

He shot Dobby a glance, who seemed to be entertaining himself by puffing out pillows and rearranging the bed covers, and asked, "Did you already bring Sylvana and Ares to Potter Manor?"

"Dobby did, Master Orion," said the house-elf, with a cheerful expression on his face. "Dobby always does what good master says."

"Good, thanks," said Orion, warmly smiling at him as he handed over the letter to Komorov. "Then use Ares to send this letter." He gave him the one address to Snape, and added quietly, "And I want you to deliver this personally to Severus Snape. He must be somewhere in this manor. Do it when he's alone, and without being seen or detected by anyone else."

Dobby hid the letters inside his tea cozy, and bounced up to his feet, as he said excitedly, "I do everything. Master can count on Dobby."

"Thanks again," said Orion with a grin. "Ah, and tell Calypso that I'll be back in a few days. I'll explain everything to her then..."

He trailed off when Dobby snapped his head around, an alert expression spreading over the creature's face. In the bat on an eyelash, the house-elf popped away, leaving nothing behind, all the letters and stack of newspapers disappearing as if into thin air.

Knowing what that meant, Orion instantly burrowed under the bed covers, closing his eyes, pretending to be dozing off, just before he heard the door being opened.

He heard two pairs of footsteps approaching the bed, one determined and sharp, the other almost inaudible since it seemed so subdued and servile. Something light abruptly landed on his bed covers, and Orion cracked an eye open, grunting and slowly stretching his arms as if having been just woken up.

First, he saw Voldemort towering by his bedside, then he saw the Daily Prophet that had been thrown at him, and afterwards he saw the house-elf standing rock-still behind the wizard.

The creature was very old, the oldest he had ever seen. And he was also heavily scarred, the wrinkled greenish skin a latticework of old, badly-healed wounds.

"Who is he?" said Orion with a frown, meeting Voldemort's penetrating gaze.

"It is one of my house-elves," hissed Voldemort sharply. "I don't have the time or inclination to look after you, boy. It will."

"Fine," said Orion with a shrug of his shoulders, shooting a glance at the creature. "What's your name?"

"It," replied Voldemort crisply, the house-elf not beeping a word.

Orion snapped his gaze back to the wizard, and interjected with disbelief, "It? That's not a name, and I was asking him-"

"You know that I don't allow my house-elves to give themselves names," interrupted Voldemort in a low, impatient and aggravated hiss. "And you can ask all you want, it will never reply. It's mute."

"You cut off his tongue?" snapped Orion angrily, before he held up a hand and huffed, slumping back against his pillow. "Nevermind, I don't want to know." He gazed up at the wizard, and added shortly, "What do you want?"

As a mode of reply, Voldemort's crimson eyes pointedly glanced at the newspaper lying on top of Orion's bed covers, and Orion took it in his hands, frowning and acting as if it was the first time he read it. Then, he impassively set it to a side, and nonchalantly glanced up at the wizard again, quirking an eyebrow expectantly.

"Are you satisfied with such news?" hissed Voldemort icily, piercing him with narrowed eyes, closely observing him while looming over.

"Very," hissed Orion, widely grinning at him. He patted the place beside him, and shot the wizard a salacious glance. "Come, come, and reward me with a kiss. You know the uproar I have caused benefits you as well."

"Dismissed, come back later," said Voldemort sharply to the house-elf, who instantly popped away without a sound.

The wizard turned to narrowly gaze at Orion, before he impassively sat on the edge of the bed, besides Orion's prone form. One of Voldemort's hands shot out, and Orion's chin was suddenly tightly gripped, as the wizard pulled their faces close, and hissed harshly, "What are you plotting, boy?"

"Us winning the war in England," hissed Orion, shooting him an impishly smug smirk, "and then conquering the rest of the wizarding world, of course."

Voldemort released Orion's face with a low scoff, and seeing that the wizard wasn't taking matters into his own hands, Orion grinned up at him, and silkily hissed, "Now kiss me."

The wizard glanced at him, slowly arching an eyebrow. But in the end, Voldemort did so, as persuasively asked of him.


The following days seemed to fuse and indistinguishably mesh together for Orion. As he had expected, the pain-soothing potion's effects grew weaker each time he drank it. Thus, he was not saved from feeling the full brunt of the withdrawal symptoms. His days and hours passed among dizzying and sweating fevers, relentless and crippling bouts of intense pains, waves of shaky tremors, rolls of sickly and gut-wrenching nauseas, and flashes of muscle-constricting aches. It was hell.

Nevertheless, whenever any of the symptoms abated for a short while, Orion forced himself to practice how to control his newly acquired level of magical power by casting simple spells. And slowly, he began learning again how to restrain his expanded magical core.

Sometimes he was aware when Voldemort paid him a short visit during the day. And sometimes they talked, mostly about the war or about the information that the wizard conveyed to him, regarding what was being printed in the newspapers. And slowly, Orion came to realize that they had reached some form of peaceful truce between them.

He was still unsure of what had been the catalyst, but the point was that the wizard was behaving more calmly around him; without hissing threats and without promising bodily harm. In fact, it was as if they had become friends once again – of a peculiar kind, but their interaction seemed as friendly as it could be when the other party was Voldemort.

Furthermore, the wizard spent every night with him. Unsolicited and without Orion having asked for it, Voldemort came into the bed late at night. And always, the wizard took him, with soothing caresses and slow, deep thrusts, almost gently, as if afraid of harming him in his weakened condition. That, and the new sense of comradeship between them, bewildered Orion.

But two things didn't escape his notice: the occasional calculating and devious glints in Voldemort's eyes when they interacted during the day; and the strange expression on the wizard's face when they slept together at night. During sex, Voldemort rarely spoke, and when they finished the wizard gazed at him with a weird intensity, always with that same strange expression on his face – like the one during their first night. And it was precisely what Orion didn't know how to interpret.

However, whatever improvements seemed to be occurring in their relationship, Orion still had a tough time. He spent most of his daytime groaning, grunting, and rolling inside his bed, while being nursed by Voldemort's house-elf. The creature indeed never spoke a word, but nonetheless took special care of Orion; patiently spoon-feeding him some soup, gently helping him to the bathroom, and washing him with a wet cloth and elvish magic.

Orion was fleetingly aware of it, and usually some of his foggy thoughts turned towards the house-elf. Which, in turn, inevitably made him think of Hermione and the girl's ideas about house-elf liberation. He had never fully agreed with her on that subject, knowing that house-elves were truly happy serving others. But he did realize that some exceptions could be made. Especially for severely mistreated house-elves like the one who tended to him, or for weird isolated cases of house-elves with a quirky and rebellious mind of their own, like Dobby. And he decided that yes, he would have to do something about that when the war was over – if they were the victors, that is.

But thinking about house-elves and Hermione, had him thinking too about the mind-possession curse he had casted on her. He knew it was too soon to make use of it. Very few days had passed and it had to be handled delicately and carefully, since he didn't want to break her. Moreover, he had already given her his instructions when he cursed her, telling her to find the Treatise Dumbledore had written, to read it, and also to find a way to be accepted into the Order of the Phoenix.

Given what he had read in the newspapers a while ago, he knew that the later couldn't be that difficult, since the Light was heavily recruiting and needed every able body. Furthermore, without Dumbledore leading the Order, and given that Moody was taking care of the recruiting aspect of the organization, it was more viable that she would be accepted. He would have to find out soon and start fully planning how to use her.

And when he thought of her and what he had done to her by cursing her with such a spell, he realized something that made him wonder about himself. He now considered her a pawn, one he was fond of, but a pawn nonetheless, expendable and to be used. And even though it still somewhat repulsed him, he realized that in that he was starting to understand Dumbledore's ways.

Finally, at last, Orion woke up on Saturday morning without issuing a groan of pain. In fact, he even felt refreshed. There were no tremors running along his limbs and no stabbing, painful aches wrecking his body. Cheerfully bouncing out of the bed, he wasted no time in dunking himself in a blissful, warm, bubble bath. He indolently spent his morning lazying around in the bathtub, without thinking about anything at all except pampering himself for a while, given that the following day would be a long one indeed, full of important meetings.

However, by the afternoon, he was already feeling restless, bored without having anything to do. He had tucked his wands inside their holsters, and then clothed himself in his own robes, which had been washed and pressed by Voldemort's house-elf. And Orion was about to take a stroll around the manor, to see who he found around to pester and amuse himself with –hopefully Snape-, when the doors parted open and Voldemort strode inside the bedroom.

"You're feeling better, I see," hissed Voldemort placidly, gazing down at him when reaching his side.

"Yup," said Orion with a large grin, demonstratively flexing his arms.

"Good," hissed Voldemort, his eyes slightly narrowing as he continued, observing him intently. "We're having a Dark Allies Meeting tomorrow."

"I know. I remember," said Orion, shooting him a quizzical glance. "And we agreed that I could tell them what I wished. I'm not going to deny being Grindelwald's grandson, Tom. I thought I had made that clear."

Voldemort waved a hand dismissively. "Tell them whatever you want."

Frowning, Orion peered up at him, wondering what was on the wizard's mind.

"What are you planning on doing from now on?" hissed Voldemort at last, his tone demanding and sharp, as the wizard closely gazed at him. "And where will you stay? No place except this manor is safe for you."

With a sigh, Orion shook his head, and replied firmly, "I want to be with my friends. I will stay at Rosier Manor with Calypso. And I'm planning to plot the war with you and our allies. You know that I'm seeing Remus and MY werewolf allies tomorrow. I told you that. And Remus, his Beta and I will attend the Dark Allies Meeting afterwards, and report any news and decisions made." He speared him with a glance, and added gravely, "And I want my Elite to start attending the Meetings-"

Voldemort interrupted him with a derisive scoff, arching an eyebrow mockingly. "Children playing to be full grown wizards. I will not have them mucking about-"

"They are my followers," snapped Orion crisply, narrowing his eyes at him. "They need to participate. They will be leading the rest of my DA during the war, so they have to be involved during our planning sessions. Your Inner Circle attends the meetings, so should mine."

"If it amuses you, I will allow it," hissed Voldemort imperiously. He leveled at him a hard gaze, and added in a dangerously low tone, "But one toe out of line, and I will not be merciful with them-"

"I assure you that they know how to behave," interrupted Orion icily, taking offense. "All of them are purebloods, they know the protocols that must be followed."

"You better hope that it is so," hissed Voldemort dismissively. "Now tell me, when your school holidays are over, are you-"

"I'm not going back to Durmstrang, if that's what you're asking," interjected Orion, sighing as he carded his fingers through his hair. "I'm not attending my last year. I want to spend as much time as possible planning the war with you, and I can study for my PRIMEs on my own. I'm planning on taking them in a month or so. And…"

He trailed off, knowing that the wizard wouldn't like what he had to say next. But it was better to come out with it once and for all, instead of having the man discovering it on his own.

Orion took in a deep breath, and pierced the wizard with his eyes, as he continued gravely, "I'll be going to Zraven Citadel, in a week. I need to reestablish my alliance with them, since we'll need them for the war, and…er, well…" He gazed at him uneasily, and said quietly, "I didn't know about it until recently, but it seems that I'm Lezander's... um, his-"

"You're the half-breed's lifemate," hissed Voldemort impassively. The wizard sneered at him when Orion gaped at the man. "And this should matter to me for some reason?"

Staring at him with round eyes, Orion snapped his mouth shut, before he shot him a narrowed gaze, and bit out, "How the hell did you know? When did you find out-"

Voldemort interrupted him with a scoff, and hissed jeeringly, "I've known about vampires and all their little secret ways before you were even born, boy. And if you indeed discovered it recently, then you're more obtuse than I imagined." He narrowed his eyes at him, and added coldly, "The half-breed marked you, gave you his blood, and was willing to sacrifice his own life to save yours at the Department of Mysteries. Anyone who knows anything about vampires would have drawn the right conclusions-"

"All of that happened before our bonding ceremony," spluttered out Orion, staring at him fixedly. "Are you telling me that you have known about it since then?" His hands balled into fists, and he added in an angry snap, "You should have told me the moment you figured it out!"

"I don't see why," hissed Voldemort indifferently. "It's no business and no concern of mine what your ties are with the half-breed."

"Bollocks!" bit out Orion, bristling. "You bloody knew way before I found out about it, and you purposely…" He angrily shook his head, taking in a depth breath to calm down. Once he managed it, he closely regarded the wizard, and demanded quietly, "So you're fine with me going to Zraven Citadel and seeing Lezander?"

"Why wouldn't I?" hissed Voldemort calmly, gazing down at him. "The way I see it, I'm sending one of my allies to whore himself out to reach a favorable agreement with the vampires." He smirked at him, and jeered with a vicious glint in his crimson eyes, "What I wonder is how far you will go. How many times and how widely will you spread your legs-"

"Shut up!" spat Orion seething, having his wand's tip instantly pressed against the wizard's neck. He shot him a look of loathing, before he sweetly smiled at him and sneered silkily, "How far I will go is no concern of yours, is it? But rest assured, that if I decide to complete my bond with him, you'll be the first to be informed. After all, what kind of ally would I be if I didn't tell you just how deeply their allegiance to me runs and what I did to earn it? I'll promise to tell you all the juicy details, if you want."

With a swift motion, he tucked his wand away, and nonchalantly glanced up at Voldemort, who was simply sneering at him. Knowing that, by the looks of things, the discussion could end up badly if the wizard decided to get cruel and nasty, Orion chose to make a safe retreat. They hadn't had an argument during the whole week - a record by all means. And he wasn't willing to allow their 'truce' to be shattered to pieces.

Before giving the man a chance to say anything else, he grabbed the back of the wizard's neck and gave him a hard kiss. After deeply plunging his tongue inside the wizard's mouth and working his lips against his, he released Voldemort, feeling the wizard's taste lingering in his mouth, and said shortly, "I'm leaving. I'll see you tomorrow."

Without further ado, he swiftly closed his eyes, deeply concentrating, and instantly disapparating away. He briefly felt the brush of the manor's wards, just before he was being squeezed through space, and he finally popped open his eyes when he felt his feet landing on asphalt.


Orion loudly exhaled, glancing around the seedy alley of the Leaky Cauldron, thankfully empty at that hour. And closing his eyes again, he disapparated once more, now to Potter Manor, knowing that his trail couldn't be followed after the triangulation.

The moment he landed on the receiving hall of the manor, he eagerly went looking for Calypso, having much to tell her – mostly about Arian, since he hadn't had the chance of mentioning the light wizard to her, and about his 'chat' with the Spirits. And he also knew that he had to give her a full account of what had happened at Hogwarts, since she hadn't seemed satisfied when he had given her the summarized version when they met after Vagnarov's funerary ceremony. Moreover, now he had the good news that Voldemort and him had 'made peace', after a fashion. He was certain that Calypso would be ecstatic to hear about it.

However, to his disappointment and confusion, he soon discovered that Calypso and her father had left the manor just an hour before. It was Daisy who informed him of it, since Calypso had had the presence of mind to ask the house-elf to pass on the message.

Apparently, Romulus and she had been summoned by Voldemort, which puzzled Orion exceedingly. She wasn't a Death Eater, so Voldemort had no business summoning her. Furthermore, since they had left an hour ago, it meant that Calypso and her father had been at Malfoy Manor before he had left it. And, it also meant that Voldemort had summoned them long before he had seen the wizard.

All of it was very intriguing, since he didn't have a clue about the reason behind it. But in the end, he simply decided to wait until she got back to find out what was going on.

Therefore, he went straight to check on Draco. Even though the young wizard was still unconscious, and hadn't regained it at any point according to Daisy, Draco looked visibly better, to his immense relief. There was now some color to his cheeks and lips, and his breathing pattern was calm and even. Orion was certain that the young wizard would soon wake up, in a couple of weeks, at the most.

Feeling marginally more cheerful, he decided that he had to take the bull by its horns and finally see Sylvana. It had almost been a year since he had last seen her, when he had to leave her at Black Manor all by her own since snake familiars weren't allowed at Hogwarts. Therefore, he was quite sure that the snake would be spitting fire at him – she had quite a nasty temper. But it had to be done, and he would solicitously pamper her while he waited for Calypso and her dad to come back.

He was making his way to his master bedroom, knowing that Sylvana would surely be dozing off on his bed, when suddenly an intense flare of pain rippled through his body.

With a cry, Orion crashed painfully against the floor when his knees buckled under him. Panting loudly and heavily, he tried to shakily stand up again, but another wave of stabbing pain wrecked along his body, making him double over and land on his knees.

Squeezing his eyes shut against the onslaught, he bit his lips and gritted his teeth, while his mind frantically swirled, incoherent thoughts rushing by, as he tried to figure out what was happening. Was this a relapse? Hadn't the potion-withdrawal symptoms ended yet?

Suddenly, as the pain seemed to increase in rolling, blazing waves, he felt a scorching fire sizzling around one of his fingers. With insurmountable effort, Orion cracked open an eye, and then both his eyes flew wide open when he saw a white light glowing around the ring finger of his left hand.

Letting out a gritted gasp, he waved his other hand over his left one, while he hissed the counter spell to the parseltongue-invisibility charm. The Slytherin wedding ring shimmered into sight, increasingly glowing further as the ravaging pain intensified through his body. Orion felt as if he was being burned alive, and he frenziedly clawed at his finger, trying to get the ring off.

Abruptly, a blinding white light blasted off from the ring, and Orion screamed and writhed on the floor as the pain became unbearable, feeling darkness closing in all around him, his mind withdrawing from awareness, his vision fading away.

The last thing he saw was Calypso popping before him, a frantic expression on her face, as she urgently cried out something to him.